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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29067591">Incident at the Window</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/theshipwreck/pseuds/theshipwreck'>theshipwreck</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde - Robert Louis Stevenson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, M/M, Re-write</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 09:01:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,700</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29067591</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/theshipwreck/pseuds/theshipwreck</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Re-write of Incident at the Window, implied Jekyll/Utterson</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Henry Jekyll/Gabriel John Utterson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Incident at the Window</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sometimes the loneliness was overwhelming. It came in waves, threatening to crush Gabriel as resentment crawled up like fire in his throat. The strength of these new feelings startled him, and this surprise never quite left him after all his long years of stoicism. It was oddly freeing, to feel his emotions jostle and rage in this way like animals let from captivity. But most of the time it frightened him.<br/>He appeared gaunt and grey, as always, but so much gaunter and greyer that his remaining friends began to peel away. None could meet his eye, which fired with a new desperation that disturbed them. It was as if the horror of recent times clung to his skin, and no amount of good deeds and praying would slough it away.</p>
<p><br/>Every day brought fresh grief. Out of the corner of his eye, in church, in the street, he would catch a wave of brown hair, the long and elegant black coat flapping in the breeze. Brown eyes, exuberant smile, silver-topped cane. Then the figure would turn, and the face would be fully, grotesquely wrong. The pang in Gabriel’s heart assaulted him anew, and there was no respite, ever. He was lost, floundering in a cruel masquerade where everyone and no-one was his vanished friend.</p>
<p><br/>He would never admit it, but his mind was fixed on Henry foremost, even at Hastie’s funeral. The congregation avoided him as he searched the crowd, red-eyed, for his remaining friend. But he never arrived. A lifetime of friendship had truly been lost over petty arguments, not even to be rectified in hindsight. Anger swelled in him again, but he was grateful for it as it blocked the tears that were close behind. He sat rigidly through the service and almost ran for the door as soon as it was over. Outside in the cool autumnal air, the graves stared at him accusingly. Gabriel left quickly, a hand to his face as his rising emotions threatened to boil over.<br/>For once, Guest was little help to him. The clerk was closer to a friend than a colleague, yet for this same reason Gabriel found himself withdrawing from him even as he longed for his advice. He loathed to seem unprofessional, or to expose the rioting mess of his heart of late, so he shut himself in his office and treated his friend coolly, if he ever saw him.</p>
<p><br/>Having mourned the death of one friend and the sudden seclusion of another, Gabriel threw himself into his work. Or rather, he would begin a task and find his eyes sliding to the fireplace, or his hands pulling Henry’s forged letter from his safe, and suddenly the sun would be setting with barely a dent made in the pile of documents in front of him. The concern in Guest’s eyes and furrowed brow became deeper as weeks went by, but if he ventured to ask after him, Gabriel was always ‘just fine, thank you.’ Often times he wanted to confess, to apologise to his friend for his distance, but the words turned to dust in his mouth. How could he explain that the mystery of his friends seem to grow stranger every day, and that his confusion and pain at their secrecy entwined with all other thoughts until he could not sleep at night? Worse than that, a new fear began to creep in, the fear that his lingering curiosity was turning into an unnatural and dangerous obsession.</p>
<p>One afternoon, as the encroaching winter was ripping the last few leaves from the trees, Guest entered his study with a pitiful expression of relief.<br/>“Sir, Mr Enfield is here to see you.”<br/>Gabriel snapped to attention, frantically rearranging his papers to feign purposefulness. His mind had drifted again, and from the sadly indulgent look on his friend’s face, he had not been successful at hiding it.<br/>“Enfield…” Of course. They had used to walk together every Sunday, but the practice had stopped since Hastie’s death. Enfield had undoubtedly been maintaining a respectful distance, but now the time for mourning was over. Here was the real world, with its traditions and routines, back knocking on his door. For the first time, Gabriel had to bite back irritation at the thought of walking out with his rambling cousin.<br/>“Sir?”<br/>Guilt quickly drowned his annoyance, and, administering a quick nod of assent to Guest, Gabriel reached for his coat.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There was something to be said for Richard Enfield; he exuded nothing but a confident and relaxed air, despite having not spoken to his kinsman for many weeks. While Gabriel struggled to think of a menial topic, Enfield did not shy away from speaking of recent events, such as the sudden disappearance of the murderer Edward Hyde and the sad loss of Hastie Lanyon. Although the latter pained him to think on, Gabriel found himself enthralled as Enfield reminisced about their shared acquaintance. They remembered his boisterous personality, and his incessant jokes, and the way his white-blond hair never seemed to lie flat but stuck up in unruly curls. Lost in the bittersweet memory of his friend’s easy laughter, Gabriel felt the vice squeezing his heart slowly loosen.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Goodness,” Enfield said. “Speaking of old times…” A grave note had entered his voice, and he gestured towards the building Hyde had escaped through months ago, which he knew now to be the other side of Jekyll’s laboratory. It appeared to have fallen even further into disrepair since then, with paint peeling from the upper level and knife marks gouged into the unmarked door. Gabriel was not given to superstition, but he could not deny the uneasy feeling that emanated from the place.</p>
<p><br/>“Well,” Enfield continued as they stopped in front of the door, “that story’s at an end, at least. We shall never see more of Mr. Hyde.” “At least that grim story is over with now. Hyde has disappeared, for better or for worse.”</p>
<p><br/>“For the better,” Gabriel said, repressing a shudder. “I encountered him here, once… your description of him was accurate. Laying eyes on him sent ice up my spine.”</p>
<p><br/>“He seemed to have that effect on everyone,” Enfield replied, following Gabriel as he walked down the adjacent alleyway to the court where Jekyll’s house stood.</p>
<p>The air seemed cooler in between the houses, and the court was bathed in shadow despite the bright sunset overhead. The small central garden still held a few damp flowers, soon to freeze and rot in the approaching winter.</p>
<p><br/>A flicker of movement caught Gabriel’s eye, and he looked up to see Henry at one of the central windows. He was clothed in black, which was likely more of an indicator of personal taste than any mourning on his part, and gazing out with a deep and infinite sadness. The orange of the sunset reflected eerily in his brown eyes, glassy and unfocused as they were.</p>
<p><br/>“Harry!” Gabriel cried, at once delighted to see his friend and disconcerted at his ghostly expression. “Are you feeling better?”</p>
<p>Henry jolted back, startled, but as he looked down the energy seem to drain from him once more. He was deathly pale, and exhaustion carved lines around his eyes that Gabriel had never noticed before.</p>
<p><br/>“No, Gabriel, I… I’m still unwell.” He replied, in a flat voice that gave away no joy at seeing his closest friend after so many weeks apart. “But not for much longer, thank God.”</p>
<p><br/>“That doesn’t surprise me when you stay indoors so much,” Gabriel continued, undeterred. While undemonstrative by nature, he had often played the bouyant one out of the pair in younger days when frequent low moods took his friend. “You should walk out with us, get some proper fresh air. Come on, get your hat!”</p>
<p><br/>Henry smiled faintly.</p>
<p><br/>“I appreciate the offer.” He sighed. “I would like to, really, but I shouldn’t. I dare not.” Then, surprisingly. “But really, Gabriel, I am very glad to see you; this really is a great pleasure.” Finally, the smile reached his eyes. “I would ask you and Mr Enfield up, but the place is really not fit.”</p>
<p><br/>Feeling progress, Gabriel could not help but smile back. “Why then,” he countered, even as the icy breeze began to numb his hands, “the best thing we can do is to stay down here, and speak with you from where we are.”</p>
<p><br/>“That is just what I was about to venture to propose,” Henry replied, with a look of good-natured mischief in his eyes. Thrilled with his success, Gabriel quickly ran through everything he needed to ask his friend. Why had he confined himself for so long? Did he even know of Hastie’s death? No, he did not want to scare his friend back into isolation. They would talk of better times, school together, when the three of them had been friends. Sailing and travelling, watching their friends marry even as they all remained bachelors. Even when they fell apart, when Gabriel was forced to play diplomat, he had always cared for Henry more, he was devoted to him, he was -</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He looked up. Henry’s smile had cracked and vanished, leaving a chilling blankness. His eyes were dark, and hollow, and his knuckles white as he clutched the windowsill. He shuddered violently, then seemed to snap back to life as he locked eyes with Gabriel. He had come back to himself, but his expression was one of abject terror and despair, one that quickly disappeared as he thrust down the window and retreated into the lampless room.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Gabriel turned away, and Enfield followed him wordlessly out of the court. He walked ahead, thoughts racing with confusion and fear. His soul was a chip of ice. They approached a busier street, feeling a sudden and deep need to be among their fellow people. Gabriel wrestled with the beginnings of embarrassment - what could Enfield have thought of that scene? He turned to apologise to his companion - for what, he was not quite sure - but there was an answering horror in the man’s eyes. An understanding passed between them, an acknowledgement, unspoken.</p>
<p><br/>“God forgive us.” Gabriel said, looking at the churchgoers on the street. Enfield nodded and walked on.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading!! I wrote this a really long time ago and I'm trying to get back into fanfic, so I would really appreciate any comments if you would like to see more :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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